


not letting her go

by intensedreams



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Emma is dead, F/F, and idk whats going on in the show right now, cos fuck canon, i just have emotions, idk how, unclear time placement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 21:04:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10884903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intensedreams/pseuds/intensedreams
Summary: Emma Swan was laying on the asphalt road. Her right arm was twisted at an unnatural angle and her blonde hair, normally so full of life and charm was soiled, blackened by fire and dirt. Her clothes were torn, bloodied. Her face was turned away.Emma Swan wasn’t moving.





	not letting her go

**Author's Note:**

> SO trigger warning * Emma is dead * and this is just some processing of grief and emotions and realisations.
> 
> Unclear time setting because it doesn't really matter - nor is how Emma has died.
> 
> I want it to be vague. The whens and hows are not what's important.
> 
> Unbeta'd so apologies!

It started with a curious deafness.

 

She was aware of things… people… voices and movement… all around her. Everything was muted. Her lips moved to the same word. A name, over and over. Her hand almost raised to her lips,

 

Emma.

 

Regina became aware of a tightness in her chest, constricting. Someone put a hand on her shoulder.

 

Emma Swan was laying on the asphalt road. Her right arm was twisted at an unnatural angle and her blonde hair, normally so full of life and charm was soiled, blackened by fire and dirt. Her clothes were torn, bloodied. Her face was turned away.

 

Emma Swan wasn’t moving.

 

A rushing in her ears, quiet at first, then cresting like a wave. A deafening crescendo.

 

Snow and David crashed by Emma’s side. Snow, grabbing Emma’s shoulders and shaking, David, hovering his hands over his daughters still form.

 

She could hear Snow’s desperation rising, her voice breaking every time she called Emma’s name.

 

Henry.

 

Henry calling “mom, Emma,” over and over, panicked, somewhere behind her.

 

It hit her like a train, an almighty single sob tearing from her chest.

 

"Oh god."

 

Emma Swan was dead.

 

**

 

Her lives meaning was once to cause Snow White and Prince Charming the worst pain imaginable. To end them? Not good enough, she had decided, learning that they were going to have a child. Ending that child though… She was an evil woman once, and she wonders if she could have actually followed through on those dark thoughts if the dark curse hadn’t been a route. Now the greatest pain had been caused.

 

Who knows. Her life had been orchestrated by her former mentor. Who knew how any of this would’ve worked out. Maybe in a different life Emma and her... There was no point in dwelling on that though, she supposed. Henry had disappeared one day and brought back the last person she’d ever wanted to see. Not Snow White’s daughter, not The Saviour… but Henry’s biological mother. Regina’s mouth twitched, the barest hint of a smile ghosting across her lips as she remembered… everything. The bickering, the one up-ing, the most incredible sexual tension. Normally Regina would suppress a shiver at the thought but everything was… numb.

 

The funeral had… happened. It had been raining. The cemetery had been crowded. Henry had stood with her stony faced and trembling. Neither of them had spoken throughout Snow and David’s teary words of goodbye. Regina didn’t want to say goodbye.

 

She was cold. It was raining again. Regina didn’t register the freezing drips of rain collecting in her hair, sliding down her neck, her ears, her face. Henry was with Snow. He’d spent two days with her, stuck to her side, tears matching her own, then he had shoved it down, somewhere inside, and was hovering around Snow and David and Neal now. He’d been gone for five days, coming back to check on her, to prompt her to eat something.

 

He’d made her some toast and coffee yesterday when he’d spotted the dishes he’d washed in the same position on the drying rack. He was so grown up. He was so smart.

 

Regina fumbled in her pocket for the keys to the house before remembering she’d just left it open. She’d only gone for a walk anyway, she hadn’t intended on being out so long. Her legs had just carried her whilst her head was stuck in the past.

 

She was a terrible mother, not tending to her son's pain, alleviating it. He’d lost his mother. And she would be there for him soon... but...

 

Emma Swan was dead.

 

And Regina was suddenly feeling the most lost she’d ever felt.

 

She slid down the wall in her hallway slowly, pressing a shaking hand to her mouth.

 

**

 

A shiver danced down her spine as she heard a familiar rumble and she stumbled to her feet from where she’d been tidying a broken glass.

 

She’d thrown it at the wall..

 

A glimpse of yellow through the glass by the door - Regina wrenched it open - the bang of the door against the wall not even registering.

 

“EM-”

 

The door to the bug pushed open, revealing Henry’s lanky form unfolding from the cramped drivers seat.

 

“Hey Mom,” he offered, reaching back in to grab his backpack. Regina forced her face blank whilst he wasn't looking. She cleared her throat.

 

“The bug?” she asked, refusing to look directly at the yellow monstrosity.

 

Henry closed the car door and moved to give her a hug. Regina melted. A Henry hug always made it better. She let herself be wrapped up in his solid form, breathing him in. Henry’s hands were so big now, she thought, feeling them splayed out against her back.

 

“I wanted to bring it home,” Henry breathed, squeezing her tighter momentarily before loosening his arms. “That okay?” His brow furrowed.

 

No.

 

No i don’t think i can deal with that.

 

I don’t know how to deal with that.

 

Emma’s gone and i can’t -

 

“Of course,” Regina heard herself saying

 

Regina always was a bit of a masochist.

 

They went inside, Henry saying he wanted to stay for the night. He pulled one of the leather jackets she knew so well from his bag, his eyes rising to meet hers, before resolutely placing it over the back of one of the chairs in the dining room.

 

His lips pressed into a thin line, the same way Emma’s would when she was unhappy.

 

“I just,” he gripped the coloured leather with both hands along the back of the chair, his knuckles white. “I just need to have her things around. I understand if it hurts you, but i need-”

 

“It’s okay, Henry,” Regina whispered, a hand moving to rub up and down his back. “I understand.” She’d found the mother inside her somewhere, for now. “I’ll make lasagne.”

 

Henry nodded, blinking furiously, before swiping at his eyes. “I’ll help.”

 

**

 

They made dinner in muted comfort, falling into quiet companionship. Each was lost in their thoughts, memories. Emma had been a regular attendant at this family ritual of theirs. They’d cooked together regularly when Henry was little and then less frequently as he’d pulled away but somehow, over time, it had started again. It had began after Emma had come to town, after the curse had been lifted, after Neverland - somewhere along the way Emma had become Regina’s friend. Her close friend. The person she wanted to send random text messages to. Regina was not that person.

 

With Emma, she was. She came to be.

 

She’d been tentatively teaching Emma how to cook at one point, Henry helping sometimes, and after they’d come back from New York, after Emma _knew_ how to cook just as well as Regina, they’d continued.

 

“Family dinners, right?” Emma had grinned one evening from her front porch with a bag of groceries in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

 

The sheer relief Regina had felt that evening was something she didn’t dwell on regularly.

 

Henry went to shower after the lasagne was safely in the oven, briefly squeezing Regina’s hand before thumping up the stairs. He’d never been light footed.

 

Neither had Emma.

 

Regina turned to grip the edge of the counter, her head falling forward. She let her hair fall over her face, not bothering to tuck it behind her ears. She could hear Henry’s footsteps upstairs, the faucet in the bathroom turning on then off, then the more consistent hissing of the shower being started.

 

Even when Robin was around, Emma was still more…

 

She was just _more._

 

Even with Hook being the demanding ass he was… Emma was still there when Regina needed her.

 

_“We’re unique, maybe even special.”_

 

_“You’ve worked too hard to have your happiness destroyed.”_

 

_“I’m in…”_

 

Regina took a deep breath, pushing away from the counter. Emma's voice echoed in her head. She heard the water flow shut off upstairs, and set about setting the table.

 

She served Henry and herself dinner, refusing to meet his eye after he looked at the third place she’d set. They’d eaten in silence. Not awkward silence, just… lost silence.

 

“Snow isn’t coping well,” he ventured when they were washing the dishes after. “She’s not eating. David is worried sick and someone has to look after Neal. So… that’s why i’ve not been here much. I’m sorry.”

 

Her little boy, Regina smiled sadly. It was his own tragedy, he’s the one who should be falling apart the most. “I understand,” she said again, drying her hands on the dish towel.

 

“Mom,” Henry took her hands in his own, thumbs dragging across her knuckles. “Please look after yourself.”

 

“Oh Henry…” she whispered. “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to look after me. I’m fine.”

 

Henry snorted. “That’s a lie and we both know it.”

 

**

Late at night when Regina was looking at the ceiling above her bed she let her mind torture herself with thoughts of that elegant neck and strong arms. Usually after half a bottle of whisky. Too much cider.

 

Anything to numb everything.

 

She’d remember how hotly her body had burned in those early days when the arrogant swagger of Sheriff Swan had ignited the best sexual tension she’d ever experienced.

 

How that had eventually cooled and over time grown into a deep seated longing, a desire, that she’d never recognised til her family were threatened and Regina was able to give the greatest gift she was capable of giving at that time.

 

That she’d never allowed herself to acknowledge until Emma had taken on the Dark One’s curse, for her, to save Regina. It was during that dangerous dance with The Dark Swan that Regina realised that she’d fallen in love with Emma Swan. She’d fallen so in love with the woman that she followed her to hell. It had frightened her, the depth of this love that she’d busied herself with someone who at least distracted her.

 

She’d loved Robin, yes.

 

But it had been nothing compared to how Emma was the sunlight.

 

Her hands drift to her thighs, her breasts, her sensitive hips.

 

Regina’s back arches as she let her fingers go where they want and she lets her mind wander.

 

Regina remembers vividly, a night where she’d offered to teach Emma how to salsa. Emma had been uncoordinated and awkward until Regina had pressed her forehead against the blondes and something had clicked - Emma’s body starting to flow with her own, the sensual push pull of the dance locking them together.

 

She remembers how Emma’s breath had come hotly against her face, the feel of her bare arms, hands, against Regina’s skin. The feel of her hips and thighs brushing against her own.

 

Regina had almost kissed her that night, so hypnotised by the movement of her body and the one against her own, the dim lighting and the alcohol flowing through her bloodstream. It had only been Emma’s breathless chuckle, low and sensuous, reminding her _who_ she was dancing with that had snapped Regina out of that impulse.

 

She is damned and imagines the blonde on top of her now, warm and solid and _here_ and sliding her fingers inside Regina like she was sliding her own in right now. Regina spreads her legs further, imagining the blonde pushing closer, the confident quirk of lips and luxurious hair tantalising her skin everywhere it falls.

 

Regina damned herself for the pleasure her body was seeking, for the places she knew her mind shouldn’t go but it just felt too good, and it had been so long since she’d felt a flicker of warmth.

 

Not since Emma Swan had fallen against the ground and never moved again.

 

_Emma whispers her name in her ear hotly, teeth catching the delicate lobe, whispers mine, whispers i love you._

 

Regina cries out as she orgasms, a weak thing, drowning messily in thoughts of what could have been, and immediately turns over and sobs into her pillow.

 

**

 

“I just really think you should come out for a bit.”

 

Regina sighs, thinking of excuses more solid than “No.”

 

It’s been several weeks. She’s not sure. Time doesn’t really exist for her right now. But it’s been some time and according to Henry, Snow is doing better. She’s taking an interest in the world and her son once more.

 

“Fine,” she grinds out before hanging up. She brushes her hair and washes her face. The circles under her eyes are covered up expertly. Going to Grannies is the last thing Regina wants. People will be there. Hook will be there. He is not someone Regina ever wants to see again.

 

Regina sighs.

 

He’s there when Regina arrives and she immediately orders a glass of wine, smiling weakly at Granny over the counter. Hook has been drinking up a storm, according to Henry, and just generally being a bit obnoxious. People had been giving him a wide berth and pity, good will on account of being with Emma, but people's goodwill was starting to run out. A drunken ungrateful pirate was wearing on everyone.

 

Regina had no tolerance for him.

 

He stank to high heaven of rum, his voice slurring as he said her name.

 

“Remember that time, when she’d run off, after you,” Hook drawled, licking his lips. He settled in beside her on a stool. “Oh yes that was all the time,” Hook grinned, taking a long gulp and slamming the glass back down on the table.

 

“Here i am falling apart and you don’t even seem capable of emotions right now, did you even care about her? I saw your eyes your majesty, i know lust when i see it - i watched you closely - were you ever jealous how she came home to me? To my bed?”

 

Regina’s nostrils flare and before she realises it she’s on her feet, hauling him up by the lapels of his dirty leather jacket.

 

She starts off deadly quiet but her voice rises with her ire.

 

“You were never good enough for her, _never.”_

 

Hook starts to laugh, that smarmy, immature face  - Regina hates him with everything that she is.

 

“You were never good enough for her but you had her love, and here you are squandering it all away, disrespecting her - you had her love and you never deserved anything you vile piece of -”

 

“Regina!” She hears someone say her name but she’s furious, and Hook is starting to look doubtful now, his awful face frowning at her. Tears prick at her eyes and she knows what’s coming, can’t help the words from tumbling out, and she knows she’s screaming now, shrill and emotional.

 

“You had her love be fucking thankful Hook. Yes, I loved her,” she roars, tears falling now, “ I loved her and i lost her before we could ever be. So fuck you and your jealous pity party,” she shoves the pirate away, uncaring how he stumbles and catches himself on a bar stool. “Fuck you.”

 

Regina wipes her eyes and glances around at the now silent diner, at the eyes pityingly directed at her.

 

“Just leave me alone,” she says to everyone as she sweeps out the door.

 

**

 

They all do leave her alone, thankfully. It’s all Regina wants these days is solitude and Henry. Henry stays more now, and it’s a great comfort. They cry together. Laugh at memories. She’s fallen asleep on him more times than she can count now whilst they watch films together.

 

He’d called her a hypocrite one afternoon. Told her he’d heard what she’d said to Hook and said she would be disappointing Emma by not taking care of herself.

 

Regina had laughed weakly, and changed the subject. The bug still sits in the driveway, and she still sets and extra place at the table. They don't talk about it. Henry automatically started getting three sets of cutlery out after the first time.

 

She misses the laughter that Emma would bring to the house desperately. Misses the gentle touches to her arm as the blonde greeted her - they had never hugged.

 

It occurs to Regina one morning when she’s contemplating the spare room that had some of Emma’s clothing in the cupboard. She was going to clear it out.

 

It seemed sensible. Healthy.

 

She realised they had never hugged, in all those years of knowing one another. In those few years of close friendship.

 

Love. At least on Regina’s part. She’s unsure if Emma ever felt the same. It didn’t matter now.

 

She lifts the arm of one of Emma’s spare jackets and presses her lips to the cuff. Lets her hands trail along the other articles of clothing, and thinks about this cupboard being empty.

 

Smiles slightly at the thought of the jacket still draped over the chair downstairs. She’d taken to smoothing her hand along the shoulders when she happened to walk past.

 

Regina closes the closet door without taking anything out.

 

She wasn’t willing to let any piece of Emma Swan go.

 

The birds were singing outside and Regina took a shower, ate an apple, brushed her hair.

 

That would do for today.

 


End file.
